


Aerie

by Royce_Clayton



Series: Sojourn [2]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: A/B/O, Akira is very frank about it, Akira isn't very nice about Alphas, Alpha!Iwai, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Coping, Current kindness, Cynical, Developing Relationship, Fluff, Gen, Healing, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Misunderstandings, Omega!Akira, Past Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Plot, Pre-Relationship, Prequel, Underage - Freeform, but no sex happens, mentions of - Freeform, technically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-04
Updated: 2019-07-04
Packaged: 2020-06-03 20:20:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19471450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Royce_Clayton/pseuds/Royce_Clayton
Summary: The unseen beginning to Akira and Iwai's relationship. One little monsoon and two lives are forever redirected.“Why didn’t I meet you sooner?”“Believe me, kid,” Iwai gave a soft, self-deprecating chuckle. “You wouldn’t’a liked me much sooner than this. But ya know me now.”Can be read as a standalone, or as the chronologically first part of the Sojourn series.





	Aerie

It hadn’t been enough that it was dark out when the first wave gutted him, no. Torrential fucking downpour had to go alongside. At least it was enough to mask the scent, not that he really carried one on a good day. Akira scampered up under the overhang of a shop, insides twisting, arms wrapped around his stomach, eyes squeezed shut from the pain that seared through him.  _ Oh  _ how he  _ loved  _ his designation...though, if he was being honest with himself, he wasn’t really the normal cut and paste omega either.

Morgana had already run home ahead of him. Akira knew how much the cat hated rain, and he’d only had one last errand to run before he called it a night. Even still, his feline friend had been reluctant to leave his side. So the leader had charged him with starting up the heater in the attic, and getting the blankets nice and cozy warm for the both of them. The enticement was more than the cat could stand as the first few fat drops fell on his head.

It would have been fine. 

It was a monsoon, and he was sopping wet, and it was dark in the back alley where the airsoft merchant set up shop, but it would have been fine.

If he hadn’t gone into heat.

Now all Akira could do was curl up around his knees as he tried to get his breathing regulated under the awning and neon glow of the weapons shop. He buried his face, taking several deep breaths, before forcing himself to stand again, ignoring the burn low in his belly and the sense of his whole body pulling tight. It wasn’t worth trying to do anything about it now, he had to get back to Leblanc. The weapons upgrades could wait another day.

Just when he was able to get a foot moving, the door next to him opened with a jingle. Akira’s head snapped to the side, hyper aware already of others in his current state, to see that it was the owner, Iwai, standing in the doorway. He must have made some kind of sight, soaked through to the bone and shivering for reasons beyond his control both meteorologically and biologically. He knew he was staring, and felt like an idiot, but with Iwai came a warm gust of air and a  _ scent _ that flitted over his tongue like a salsa dancer...before slamming her heel in his gut.

“Oh shit,” Akira whispered.

“Kid, what the hell, get your ass in here before you drown!”

And a part of Akira, that he (and life) had long since bludgeoned to death and buried, waltzed right inside the shop at the older man’s bidding. He could see it, almost, like a shadow, a persona arcing up out of him and leaving him behind. It looked just like him but...younger. Brighter. Far, far more naive.

Biting down the urge to swipe out at it, and risk hitting Iwai instead or, worse, looking  _ insane _ in front of the only man willing to sell him viable militia for his and his friends’ quest to right the world, instead he just shook his head.

“Come on, I ain’t gonna get mad or anything, s’fuckin’ cold out here and you’re already shakin’!” Iwai growled, the stick of his lollipop twirling in his agitation.

Akira opened his mouth, to tell him no, to scream and run off into the dark maybe, but a bolt of lightning and crash of thunder drowned out anything that may have come to his lips. He jumped, instead, his hearing already growing too sensitive, the cannonfire blare overwhelming, and Iwai took that same moment to grab him by the arm to pull him inside. He’d tugged, hard, and Akira’s own skittish movement sent them both far over their estimation. They collapsed in a heap on the floor of the shop, Akira hitting the solid form of Iwai’s muscled body with a whine so telling he swore he’d heard it in an Omega porn somewhere before.

The door to the shop closed with an innocent jingle of the bell overhead, and all that was left to fill the room was the constant thrum of the rain on the roof.

He tried to push back immediately, and in his head he succeeded, but his body, now nose first and rolling in a strong alpha’s scent, decided that that was a stupid idea and nixed it. Instead he burrowed further, moving until his fluffy head was tucked right up under Iwai’s chin, rubbing against his throat.

He shut his eyes, already trying to distance himself mentally from whatever his hormone-driven body had decided to do. He’d been there before, the last time, in the jail cell, when his heat had struck. This wouldn’t be nearly as hard to tune out, at least, there was only one Alpha this time, and while Iwai seemed like a rough-stuff type Akira had experience to ward off the terror.

He knew his body could handle more than this.

It already had.

“Hey, Kid.” Iwai’s voice wasn’t really what lured Akira back. It was his hand, firm, and warm, running over his back in slow, gentle moves. “I can bet where your head’s goin’. But, I swear to ya, I ain’t gonna hurt ya.”

Akira actually laughed at that, unable to help just how broken the sound became near instantly as he kept his face buried, the water dripping from his hair perhaps not the only source of liquid pooling in the soft fabric of Iwai’s sweater.

“Let me save you the trouble,” Akira muttered, bitter, angry, but ultimately unable to stop. “I can’t get pregnant, so you can fuck me all you want. Just promise...promise you’ll let me go back, huh?” Lifting his head just a bit, he could see the paper white color of his knuckles as they clenched in Iwai’s sweater. “I got people who need me. I’ll be your toy, whatever you want, but please…”

The older man cupped the back of his head with one of those large, warm hands, and brought Akira’s face back to his neck, letting the scent, stronger now, in response to his own body’s betrayal, fill Akira’s head.

“Not gonna fuck ya, kid.” Iwai’s voice was low, lower than usual, a soft rumble, something Akira could feel just as much as he could hear. “Whatever they did to you, ‘s a fuckin’ crime. But I ain’t them.”

“Then what are you?”

The alpha underneath him sighed. “Munehisa Iwai. Just another damn dirty adult. But, not another damn dirty alpha.”

Akira’s heart jerked, a piece of his soul, a shard burning bright blue, whispered incomprehensibly and yet the message was clear all the same.

_ A name. _

_ He had a name. _

You could do a lot of damage, seek a lot of revenge, with a name.

Especially if you happened to be a Phantom Thief of Hearts.

“We’re gonna get up now,” Iwai said, shifting slowly, his movements deliberate and telegraphed, trying not to freak out the omega trembling in his arms. “As comfortable as this isn’t, I haven’t had a damn minute free to sweep this joint up in ages, an’ bein’ eye level with the dust bunnies doesn’t exactly instill the pride of ownership in me, ya know?”

Akira’s fists tightened on their own, but he nodded his head all the same, and slowly Iwai sat them up, and stood, bringing the teen’s weight up effortlessly. He’d been right in his estimation. Iwai wore bulky, amorphous clothes, but underneath he was all toned muscle mass, and strength. That was equal parts terrifying and attractive as fuck. The more Akira looked up at the stubbled jaw, and younger than first assumed face, the more he thought that at least he was moving up the rapist ladder. This one was kinda hot.

“Stop that,” Iwai muttered, looking away while moving, only making it a step before Akira’s grip stopped him.

“What?”

“Starin’ at me like I’m the best prize in a shit show.”

Again Akira felt a laugh bubble up out of nowhere at the alpha’s words. He leaned forward, burying his face once again. “And if I said you were?”

“Everyone’s life is shit, kid. Different kinds, different depths, but all shit anyway.” Iwai shrugged a little. “You either get up in the morning and pull on your boots, or let it eat you alive.”

“You’re a fucking poet,” Akira mumbled, rewarded with the rumble of a chuckle from deep inside Iwai’s chest.

“Sounds like someone’s laced up. C’mon, got somethin’ to show ya.”

“You really have terrible rapist foreplay.”

“Jesus, kid.”

“I thought we already established, I’m pretty fucked up.” Akira took a step away, amazed with how much the pain had ebbed, and how much of himself he’d gotten back. “So, let’s just be blunt here. You’re an alpha, ya got a dick-and even if you don’t I’ve seen a lady alpha fuck someone just fine without one-and you’ve got a shop all to yourself with an in-heat omega in it. Call me cynical, pretty sure I’ve seen enough hentai to know where this is going.”

_ Lived _ enough hentai to know.

Iwai just crossed his arms over his chest, surly scowl in place even as he raised an eyebrow. “And if I was anythin’ like the bastards out there,” He cocked his head toward the door, “I’d have already had you bent over the counter fucked out and knotted. We done with stereotypes?”

Akira glared at him, and Iwai scowled right back.

“You better give me a fuckin’ discount from now on if I’m gonna be your bitch.”

“Too bad for you, I don’t do discounts, guess you’ll have to find another Alpha to sweet talk. C’mon.” Iwai turned and walked back around the counter.

Akira watched him go, growling to himself. But the further away Iwai got, the more the burn came back. The worse everything felt.

The shopkeeper led him into the backroom, and Akira tried to prepare for anything. A gang lying in wait, a car revving to have him thrown into it to sell off on the black market...anything. But the boringly mundane stockroom was disappointing. The secret passageway that Iwai opened up was cool, in a very far off in his head sort of way, but it just had him on edge again. 

And he was starting to  _ ache _ . 

“You know, you can just fuck me, you don’t gotta tire me out or anything,” Akira offered helpfully as he followed the alpha through the hole in the wall.

“Brat, knock it off.”

On the other side was a home, well, a shell of one at least. It had very little furniture, and what was left was old, abused, broken...but still standing. Iwai clicked on a light, showing the way further, and motioned him onwards. He stepped through the nearest doorway and came out into a room set up like some kind of bunker. There was a large cot against one wall, bare wooden floor underfoot, and a large metal chest that made Akira’s Phantom Thief Fingers itch. It would have been spartan...except that there was a pile of minky, fleece, and faux-fur blankets and pillows stacked in the corner, near a doorway that led elsewhere. And those he  _ couldn’t _ resist, quickly walking over and sinking his fingers into the soft, smooth, cool fabrics, ending up kneeling down to nuzzle one heated cheek against it. Any Omega with enough money would have gladly given up just about anything for these, the perfect materials for...

“You built a nest?” Akira turned to stare back at the other man, though he couldn’t bring himself to unhand the sensory input.

Iwai nodded his head. “S’a work in progress but...yeah.”

“Why are you showing me this?...Is this where I live now?”

“For fuck’s sake,  _ no _ .” The older man ran a hand down his face, pinching the bridge of his nose as he gave a long sigh. “Just...wanted to let you know it’s here. If you need it, or whatever.”

“I don’t understand.”

“And that’s the world’s fault, not yours, kid.” Iwai looked over at him, meeting his eyes, and Akira felt the rush of heat flare out around him like the fires of Arsene had. “Let me show you the way out from the street, you don’t even gotta tell me you’re here, if it don’t feel safe. Then I’ll take ya home.”

Akira tried to take a deep, steadying breath, but found his lungs too tight to fully complete one. He whined, softly, but could tell that it had been heard when Iwai’s eyes shone in the dim light for a moment before he pulled the brim of his hat down to obscure them.

The alpha reached a hand out, just holding it, and Akira stood, hesitating before sadly petting the blankets goodbye, and stepping over to take it. 

Iwai lead Akira through the room, stopping at the doorway to glance down at him. The alpha reached out with his other hand and plucked up one of the blankets, the one Akira had buried his face in, and covered the omega with it. 

“Don’t mean nothin’,” he rumbled.

The teen made some kind of indignant squawk, before letting go of Iwai to wrap the blanket around himself, peering up out of softness at the alpha. “...Thank you.”

The alpha shrugged and walked them through what looked like a kitchen, and out through a front door. He stopped a moment to lock the place up, and it was then Akira saw the eviction and condemned notices nailed to the door. Iwai didn’t seem to let it bother him any, and Akira was in no place to ask, really. The older man fiddled with his keyring for a moment before holding a single key out to Akira. The teen took it without question, and stared down at it dimly, before pocketing it and bundling up tighter in his blanket, glad that there was an eave over the doorway to keep the downpour at bay.

“Stay here, I’ll bring the car around.”

Akira’s eyes widened, his heart slamming against his ribs like an incensed gorilla, and he grabbed Iwai’s arm before he could even complete the sentence, gripping tightly.

“Kid, you’re already soaked, I’m not gonna let you walk out into that.”

The teen looked Iwai in the eyes, daring, emboldened by panic. “Please.”

Iwai stared back, waiting for Akira to stand down, but he wouldn’t-or couldn’t, he really wasn’t too sure which. The gunsmith sighed, cursed under his breath, then unzipped his jacket and took it off. Akira was willing to let him go for the moment it took, but his grip was returned the minute Iwai’s arm was free. He could only blink in surprise as the alpha wrapped the large, baggy jacket around him and the blanket, and zipped it up. He wanted to protest, but found his voice gone in the all consuming scent of alpha wrapped around him, worsened when Iwai lifted the hood to cover him completely.

“I don’t--”

“I know,” the man’s gruff voice sounded...soft. “I know you don’t understand.” They stood there for a moment, a million words hanging invisible between them. “But it’s Gore Tex. Should keep you from drowning out here at least.”

And then they stepped out into the deluge, Iwai’s sweater almost immediately blackened as it soaked up every single drop that hit him. By the time they made it to the alpha’s car it was like the clouds had swallowed up the oceans of the world and now unleashed them all at once on the man, he was a mess and a half. But he didn’t complain, not a single word about it, as he started the car and looked over at Akira.

“So, where’m I goin’?”

Akira looked down. “You know the coffee shop in Yongen-Jaya? Leblanc?”

“Little hole in the wall place, barely opens, run by that grumpy guy who lives behind the counter?”

The teen just lifted his head and looked at Iwai, raising an eyebrow. “Pot. Kettle.”

It got the other man to crack a smile, or at least ticked the corner of his mouth up into something close to one. “Fair enough. Yeah, I know the place.”

The car began to move and Akira looked outside, unsurprised to see the streets fairly vacant. No one wanted to be out in this kind of weather. 

“You’re not going to ask why I live in a coffee shop?”

“Figured ya just didn’t want me t’know where ya lived.”

Akira shrugged. “No, I live there.” He felt himself smile a bit. “The grumpy guy lets me stay up in the attic room.”

“Sounds cramped.”

“I like being up high,” Akira admitted. “I like seeing the sky outside my window.”

“We get plenty of that around here, kid.”

“Not where I’m from. Guess it hasn’t lost its luster yet.”

“That ain’t a bad thing, ya know.” Iwai slowed the car to stop, idling at the mouth of the backstreets. Akira could see the lamp over Leblanc’s door, and reached for the door handle to get out, when the car started inching forward again.

The teen watched as Iwai pulled the car slowly through the path, ignoring the cones and signs, until the car sat, illegally, in front of Leblanc’s door. 

Akira looked at Iwai and started to unzip the jacket to return it, but Iwai lifted his hand to rest over the teen’s.

“Keep it, kid. Still cold as a witch’s tit out there.”

Realistically, Akira knew there had to be good alphas in the world. The media always loved to paint them that way. And not every omega was raped or brow beaten into relationships and matings, he had known plenty of happily in love couples back home. But they’d seemed so rare, mythical creatures almost in their own right, that the odds he’d ever meet one...and life had only served to prove just how accurate that was. 

No, not every alpha could be bad, he just had really... _ really _ shitty luck.

“...You are the weirdest alpha I’ve ever met.” Akira sighed, his hands falling away. “I don’t get why you’re so unaffected. Hell,  _ I’m _ not even unaffected-I kinda  _ want  _ you to fuck me! I’ve already told you I wouldn’t even put up a fight, so  _ why won’t you _ ?” His eyes widened and shot to Iwai’s neck, searching.

“I’m not mated,” Iwai answered, guessing what the omega was looking for. “And while we’re running down the list, I like guys and omegas just fine, not seeing anyone at the moment...honestly kid, I ain’t unaffected. Been hard enough to cut diamonds the minute I smelled ya. But there’s such a thing as control. I’ve seen what alphas--what  _ people _ do, maybe not as close and personal as you have, but I’ve still seen it. And it’s...ugly, to say the least. Not all alphas are bastards, kid. But a fuckin’ lot of ‘em are.”

The gunsmith sighed and gripped the steering wheel tightly. “I swore I’d never be one of them. I never wanted to see and smell that kinda fear comin’ offa anyone again.” He leveled his gaze on Akira. “Head on inside, lock up, I’ll hang back and make sure no one’s sniffin’ around.”

The teen nodded, stunned by the alpha’s resolve, and opened the door. He hesitated, just for a moment. “Why didn’t I meet you sooner?”

“Believe me, kid,” Iwai gave another soft, self-deprecating chuckle. “You wouldn’t’a liked me much sooner than this. But ya know me now.”

“Yeah.” Akira stepped out and closed the door behind him, putting his hand to the door handle before glancing back at the waiting car.

“And I want to know more.”

**Author's Note:**

> So this was originally two scenes written for my first full Persona 5 fic, Matryoshka, but I pulled them because the shift from this to the rest of the story resulted in the worst kind of emotional whiplash. Rather than cut it all away forever, I kept it as its own document. I haven't been able to write for a long while, and I feel bad for my fans, so I wanted to give them something, anything more. I needed to rekindle my love for these characters, and I hope that this has done it. Thank you for coming along on this detour with me! If you're new, or just want a good reread, please enjoy the rest of the series as well! See you soon for the next installment!


End file.
